


Under One Roof

by fabric_hands



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: (oh my god they were roommates), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, BAMF Nebula (Marvel), Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Other, and they were ROOMMATES, roommates au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-08-04 02:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16338383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabric_hands/pseuds/fabric_hands
Summary: A series of short drabbles between you and Nebula living together. Each chapter is a different timeline. Requests are open.





	1. Human AU

“Pick up your clothes.”

You sighed. “It’s my room, Neb.”

”It’s our apartment.”

”But this is my space.”

She stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to look at all your dirty shirts in the floor, Y/N.”

Groaning, you sat up from your bed. “Then don’t come in!”

Nebula was a roommate that ticked you off, sometimes. It was the invasion that did it. Sure, she paid rent. She could make a damn good breakfast, too— though not the most happy-sappy person you knew, she was efficient. Cold, but efficient.

You had known her for awhile. You met before you moved in together (obviously) and though she was kind of a bitch, you found yourself drawn to her. Nebula wasn’t her real name, but that’s what everyone called her. She had a shaved head and a prosthetic arm, along with a glass eye. The woman was muscular, slim, and ready to throw hands with anyone who looked at her funny. You liked her right away. When the time came for you to get a place, her sister suggested that the two of you live together. She obliged, on the idea of efficiency alone— not because of any kind of intimacy she shared with you.

But she got on your case for small things. Not doing the dishes. Leaving stuff around the apartment. Not doing chores. You had expected her to be more reclusive, hiding out in her room and doing whatever it was she did. Nebula was on top of housework— and when you didn’t do your share, then she would call you out on it.

”I’m so lazy, Nebula.” You fake whined. “I can’t do it.”

She groaned. “Y/N, get up. Just do your chores.”

”If you want them up so bad, why don’t you do it?”

She shot you a glare so harsh, that if looks could kill, she would have given you the atomic bomb of hateful stares. You were unflappable, eyebrows raised as a punctuation to your excellent point.

“Just hang them up.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “Or you’re making dinner.”

”What?” You whined, standing up now. “You said you were making dinner!”

”I’m revoking your dinner privileges.” She growled. “Pick them up.”

You rolled your eyes now. “You sound like my mom.”

”I have to act like your mom because you are acting like a child. Pick. Them. Up.”

”Yes, mother dear.” You sneered, stooping over to pick up a pair of pants on the floor.

”Put them in the hamper if they’re dirty.” She called after you, walking away.

You scrunched up your face and mimicked the phrase in a high, mocking voice under your breath. At times like this, you regretted having Gamora suggest the two of you live together. You were both night and day, not really similar people.

Balling up a shirt, You peeked around the corner. The hamper was all the way down the hallway. Lazy by nature, you sighed. Aiming as best as you could, you threw the shirt in the general direction of the hamper.

You missed, badly.

Then you heard a snicker.

Turning your head to the sound, Nebula had a hand over her mouth, stifling a smile. You furrowed your brow.

”What?”

”That was awful.”

”You told me to put them away— you didn’t tell me to do it with style.” You began to get embarrassed since she saw you completely airball a t-shirt.

”It just ended back up on the floor again.” She lowered her hand, revealing her grin. It was small, and honestly more like a smirk.

For whatever reason, it took your breath away.

After a moment, you blinked. “Well,” you crossed your arms. “I’d like to see you do better.”

Nebula raised an eyebrow. “Better than that? What a challenge.”

Her low voice was so taunting. You gestured into your room, at all the clothes on the floor.

”Be my guest.”

She smirked. “Fine.”

* * *

 

She nailed each and every one.

She turned to look at you after she hucked a pair of socks straight into the hamper. “How was that?” She asked mockingly.

”I call bullshit.” You raised your hand. “Red card!”

Nebula laughed haughtily. “What? Sore loser?”

”No,” you stated simply. “I just think you cheated.”

”How?”

”Robot arm.” You pointed at her prosthetic. “Can’t play fair like that, Neb. I don’t have a robot arm.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t make them in there because of my ‘robot arm’.”

”Yeah?” You raised your brows. “Prove it.”

Nebula furrowed her brow and scrunched her lip, likes he was deep in thought. On the one hand, the two of you were wasting time. On the other hand, this was a chance for her to prove you wrong.

She popped off her prosthetic at the shoulder, one-handed now.

”Hold this.” She said, holding out her arm with her other arm.

You took it apprehensively, making sure not to damage it.

”I...” you pretended to get sheepish, cradling the metal arm. “I’ve never held hands with someone like this before.”

She rolled her eyes again, but you could see she was holding back a smile.

”Just give me more clothes.”

You stooped down to pick up another article of dirty clothing— but they were all gone. She had shot and made every single one off of the floor.

”Oh, that’s all the dirty stuff...” you mumbled.

”Just give me something, I don’t care what it is.” She held out her open palm expectantly, eyes trained on the hamper down the hallway.

You shrugged, set down her arm, and began to take off your shirt. It was a normal tee with and undershirt on underneath, so you didn’t feel uncomfortable. You wadded it up and handed it to her.

”Here.”

She took it without looking, then seemed to be confused for a second. Nebula turned to look at you, then froze.

”Were you just wearing that?” She asked. Her eyes darted from your chest to your face again.

The frantic way she was acting made you blush. Why was she so fidgety. “Yeah?” You said with a twinge in your voice. “It’s not gross or anything. I—“

”I know, I know—“ She tried to keep her voice even. “It’s just... warm.”

Your stomach did a backflip. Nebula making this shot seemed like the least important thing in the world.

Nebula cleared her throat, reared back her one arm, then threw the shirt.

It missed completely and utterly— it didn’t even get close to the hamper. Nebula flinched when it landed on the ground, and you laughed.

”See?” You smiled. “Robot arm.”

”Give it back.” She muttered, holding her hand out shamefully.

You handed it to her, a grin still on your face. “What’s the matter?” You asked. “Sore loser.”

”Forget it.” She mumbled, putting the prosthetic back on. 

Before you could say anything, she had rushed out of the room, not looking at you. “I’m going to make dinner” was her only harried response.

You stood in the doorframe for a second, thinking about how she commented on the warmth of the shirt in her hand.


	2. Ravager AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are a new Ravager, and Nebula is your surly bunkmate.

Hazing wasn’t something you were familiar with, and you weren’t exactly happy to be acquainted with it. Rock, meet bottom.

Becoming a Ravager was your last ditch-effort to make it off of your planet. There was nothing for you there— no family, no life, no future. It made you sick. There were no other options, it seemed, except hijacking a ship and flying it to who knows where. But you couldn’t do that. The least savory decision you could make was the one that was actually the most reasonable. You were skilless. You were nobody.

The only thing you could do was become a grunt.

It surprised you when you actually got accepted. Of course, not as a valued friend, or even a commodity— as fodder. If worst got worse, you would be food for your shipmates.

It surprised you even more how accepting you were of that. You could at least serve some purpose on that way— even if it meant becoming a meal.

A part of you was looking forward to it. You had heard all the horror stories of Ravagers as a child; how they were dangerous, how the were pirates who stole and cheated. They were the poster people for who not to be. But you had always held, somewhere in your heart, the sense of camaraderie they shared. Such a big family, ever growing and expanding, rebel siblings supporting you. That was the life you wanted.

Uniform on, actually feeling good about yourself, a group of the on-ship crew thought it appropriate to indoctrinate you. This included carving up your shoulders and back with a knife, each person ripping into your skin a tally of how many days they thought you would last. It was far more merciful than some of the other member’s indoctrinations. Many shipmates thought you wouldn’t last more than two. 

About 30 slashes accumulated on your skin. It was only day one.

With every tip of the knife slicing into your skin, more and more regret poured into your body as blood poured out. You thought about your alternatives; Easton away on a desolate planet with a sorry excuse for a life, or be perpetually bullied and stranded in space? You didn’t know which was worse.

Your belongings were thrown into a barren mechanical room onto a cot. The crew mates seemed happy to see you scramble to pick up the objects that spilled onto the floor. They slammed the barred door behind you, whooping and hollering with all their might.

You bit back tears as you put your valuables back into the sack.

There was a shadow cast on the other side of the room, shielding a hidden figure from your vision. They sat on another cot, their back against the wall, legs relaxed and eyes piercing. You didn’t even notice them until you stood back up.

”Don’t cry.” They said, voice stern and sharp. It was a woman’s voice, and it sounded as if it was filtered through a mechanical device. “They’ll eat you alive.”

Forcefully, you rubbed at your eyes and sniffed. “I’m not.” You tried to put on a fake air of confidence, anything at all to mask your naivety. It didn’t work.

She scoffed. You felt like dirt.

”You haven’t bled out yet.” She said. “That means they don’t think you’ll last long.”

You were silent, trying to busy yourself with straightening out your bag, which didn’t need to be straightened out.

”They put you in here,” she continued. “Because they thought I would be the one eating you alive.”

Breath hitching your your throat, you turned to look at the shadow. “Will you?” You dared to ask.

She leaned forward. The light caught the metal casing on her head, the shiny gray of her robotic arm. Her eyes were dark, and they absolutely devoured you. Her blue skin clashed with the loud red of her outfit. There was no emotion on her face.

”We’ll see.” She said.

* * *

 The next few days were hell. There was no adventure like you thought there would be. No daring robberies, escaping the clutches of the law so narrowly, no romantic escapades alongside your rebel friends. It was instead the dank smell of a crowded, dirty ship. There were only screams from the common rooms, where they bet and ate and fought mercilessly. The only thing you did was try to avoid the gaze of your new crew mates. Fruitlessly so.

You thought that Ravagers were a family— it looked like you weren’t quite a part of that family yet, because the constant harassment was almost too much to bear. You were too tender to be a Ravager, and everyone made it known as much as possible. It was a cheap thrill for your shipmates to punch and pummel you, throw things in your direction, and chase and laugh as your ran away. They made fun of the fear on your face when they moved suddenly. You were the fresh meat, and everyone around you was hungry for their next meal.

More often than not, you were in your room, fists pressed against your eyes, trying your damndest not to cry. And more often than not, you failed. 

The woman you were bunking with was named Nebula. She was not to be tried.

Nebula had a reputation for theft, murder, treason, and just about any descrepancy you could think of. She was danger in its most condensed form. Her body, nearly entirely robotic, was nothing more than a weapon and a vessel. She also wasn’t here to stay— she was nothing more than a drifter, and being a Ravager was her most recent stint. When she tired of it, she would drop the badge and drift to her next task that proved itself interesting. You had seen her kill a Ravager who tried to cross her within the first week of you being there. She scared the living shit out of you, and you made yourself scarce whenever she entered the room.

What she said to you the first night was true— the others expected her to kill you. They thought that you slept in the same room as a murderer, who would one day dispose of a commodity so the others could have a taste of your species.

You didn’t sleep. You never did, now.

Two weeks had passed, and you were holed up in your room. You knew that if you sat very still on your cot, but made it clear you were awake, then few would bother you. It was only when you were unconscious that Ravagers would attack you, claiming that your defense was down.

You hadn’t come out of your room for two days. The pressure was endless, and you just wanted to rest. But you couldn’t. You could never rest. So you stayed awake, tired and starving.

Nebula opened the door, and your eyes darted to the other side of the room. Like a wild animal, you didn’t want to make eye contact, for fear of provoking her.

Wordlessly, she walked by you and went to her own cot. You heard the sound of metal sliding on metal, yet still didn’t dare to look in her direction. You instead pulled your knees to your chest and stared at the floor.

“You’re a fool for being here.” She snarled. 

The sound of metal scraping metal again.

”You don’t do anything. You haven’t done a single job.”

Scrape. Scrape.

“So If you don’t serve us any purpose?” The scraping stopped. “Then what are you good for?”

You dared to look at her. She was holding two knives, and was sharpening one with the other.

The bile in your stomach almost surged up your throat. Your limbs went limp, and you could only stare at her.

The feat in your body seemed to rocket through you, your blood running from cold to hot back to cold again. You couldn’t breathe. Yet, under all this fear, there was a relief. A relief that it was all ending, and that it would end in the privacy of your own room. That didn’t stop your bass instincts though, as you began to beg for your life.

”Don’t kill me,” your throat swelled. “Please.”

She looked down her nose at you. No emotion,

Your voice became thick. “Please,” you repeated. “I can be useful. I-I can do something! Anything! Just, please—“

She then flipped one of the knives around so she was holding the tip of the blade. The handle was out to you.

”You’re not worth it.” She said.

The fear in your body was gone, replaced with only confusion. Cautiously, you took the knife. Your hands shook so badly, you nearly dropped it.

Nebula sat. She set down her own knife, and pulled out of a pocket two rolls of bread. Carelessly, without a sound, She handed you one.

Instantly, your stomach growled. You pounced on her hand, snatching the bread and devouring it completely. Halfway through your destruction of the food, you realized that Nebula meant you to cut it with the knife she gave you. Swallowing, you now picked it up, and began to slice away pieces to eat.

Nebula did the same with her own roll, only more gracefully. She ate as if she had all the food in the world to spare.

”How many scars do you have?”

The question was abrupt. You swallowed. “I-I don’t know. Almost thirty.”

She hummed quietly, observing her roll. “You have 26.”

Recoiling, you blinked. “How do you—?”

”I was there when they did it. You were crying too much to notice.” She took another bite. “They added you extra for the tears. Their original estimate was a generous 13 days altogether.”

You seemed to sink into yourself. “I see.”

”You’ve lasted longer than they thought.” She finished her roll, and licked at a single finger. “I can’t kill you now.”

You hesitated. “Why?”

”It may seem like there’s nothing but chaos here,” she said. “But there are rules.”

”So I—“ 

Nebula held up a hand. “Shut up. Eat.”

You complied happily.

“Th—“ You said through a mouthful. “Thank you. For the food. Thank you so much.”

Her eyes darted up at you, no longer looking at the knife she was palming. “Not a word.” She said sharply.

You nodded, understanding, but still afraid.

”You won’t make a good meal,” She looked away from you, not meeting your eye. “If you don’t have any meat on you. That’s what you’re good for.”

Looking back down to the floor again, you finished your bread. “Right,” was your quiet response.

”Don’t you dare think about skipping meals again.” Nebula stood, snatching the knife from your hand. You jumped.

Nodding furiously, You gulped. “Yes.”

”Understand?”

”I understand.”

She looked at you darkly. “Good. And... if anyone does otherwise...” she turned away, talking to the opposite direction of you. “Then you come to me.”

For a moment, you didn’t understand. But then, your face got hot.

”Understand?” She snapped.

You nodded again. “I understand.”

”Don’t make me tell you again.” 

With that, Nebula walked away, not looking back.

Your heart sped up. You didn’t know if it was from fear... or from something else entirely.


	3. College Roommates AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw this is another human AU

“You got the study sheet?” You said sleepily from your desk.

An affirming sound came from Neb, and she handed you a sheet of paper without even looking up from her work.

You took it thankfully, and heaved a sigh. Midterms.

A dull bulb illuminated your dark surroundings— a very, very bare dorm. Cans of miscellaneous energy drinks were scattered in on the ground, empty. A second-hand pencil you borrowed from someone on your seminar and never returned was clutched in your sweaty hand. The words on the paper seemed to blur together endlessly, the same paragraph you had been scanning over and over completely meaningless now.

”This was a mistake.” Nebula grumbled, crunching a soda can in her hand. “A big mistake.”

You hummed in agreement, trying to stop your hand from shaking. All those energy drinks had gotten to you.

”I should just drop out.” Nebula dropped the can and leaned back in her chair, no longer hunched over her desk. “I was never that passionate about engineering anyway.”

”Don’t drop out.” You said dully, considering that option yourself.

”I could be a stripper. Strippers don’t have to go to eight AM lectures.”

”True,” you cocked your head towards her, her dark eye and even darker skin glinting in the pale light. “But you would probably punch out the first guy that said anything inappropriate to you.”

She scoffed, turning back to her paper. “Probably. I would never make it as a stripper.”

You sighed, looking at the meaningless formulas on the study guide. Numbers seemed to not make sense anymore. Feeling a pain between your eyes, you squinted.

Rubbing your eyes, you sighed, leaning back in your chair and craning your neck toward the ceiling. “God.” You hissed.

Nebula eyed you. “Something wrong?”

”Headache. Shit. It’s all those energy drinks, and probably because it’s...” You wearily checked your phone. “...two AM.”

Nebula shook her head. “You need to go sleep. Your schedule is ridiculous.”

You rubbed your eyes again, more forcefully this time. “No, I need to pass this. There’s no way—“

Neb held up a hand. “Nuh-uh. Bed for you. I’ll write you a summary, get you up in four hours. My test is in the afternoon anyway.”

Less reluctantly this time, you protested again. “Neb, I’m not—“

”Bed. Now.”

You chuckled. “Sure, mom.”

”I mean it.” She gave you a look.

Dropping your pencil, you stood up, pushing your chair back. “Alright, then. If you insist.”

Neb just grunted and turned back to her work, waving you off. “Hurry up. I have work to do.”

You smiled thankfully, and trudged to your room, the weight of sleep weighing on you. The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out, thanking your roommate for her help.


	4. Snowed In AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming soon! I’m working hard on that request

The knock on your door was surprising, especially since there was about a foot of snow outside, and you lived on a largely uninhabited planet.

You never got visitors. You never got any kinds of knocks on your door. People didn’t come to your home. Hell, you were hardly even aware that other people existed. The only time you knew that other creatures were alive in the universe was when you went to the market; and even then, the closest civilization was miles away, and even then, it was through many feet of snow.

That’s how this planet was— big, and empty, and whatever open space there was got filled with snow, year-round. Blizzards flurried constantly. Cold was second nature to you. This was just how you lived, and you were fine with it.

What you weren’t fine with was this stranger, pounding away at your door.

Hesitantly, you stood up from your desk. You had heard two abrupt knocks outside, and then silence. Waiting carefully, you stayed completely frozen.

Maybe it was just a trick. Cabin fever. You had been in your home for a long time, after all. A few moments passed, with no more sounds coming from outside. You released a breath, now thankful that the knocking didn’t persist.

But then it did, harder this time, as if the person were slamming on the door with a hunk of metal.

You squeaked in fear, jumping, and ran to the door. “H-hello?” You asked meekly.

”Let me in,” a voice growled through the thick wood. “Let me in.”

It wasn’t a familiar voice— not like you heard many voices, anyway. But this person did not speak your native species’ language, at least not well. They didn’t have the same accents or mannerism that you did.

A foreigner.

”Who are you?” You asked worriedly.

”It doesn’t matter.” Their teeth were clenched. You could hear it. “I am going to freeze to death out here, unless you let me inside.”

”I—“

”Let me in, Damn it!” They shrieked, slamming on the door again.

Panicked, to appease the person on the other side of the door, you whipped it open. 

She was a woman with metallic apparatuses all over her body. This stranger also, much to your concern, was not of this planet. You never saw any species other than your own, so this was a horrible and incredible sight. The robotic arm, deep black eyes, and authoritarian looking jumpsuit wasn’t what threw you— it was her completely blue skin. She was clutching at her arms and shoulders, shuddering, the cold of her metal hand probably not instilling much warmth. The sleeveless outfit didn’t help much either, nor the bald head.

The signs of hypothermia. They were setting in.

This was not good.

Hurriedly, first instinct, you grabbed one of her hands. “Oh, my stars— please, come inside!”

She gladly succumbed to your pulls, rushing inside with an annoyed grunt (even though she was helping you— very surly). You rushed to your fireplace, eager to start a flame and warm her so she wouldn’t die from the cold. As you shut the door, she sighed, furrowing her brow. She observed your humble surroundings with increasing judgement, still shuddering.

As the stranger looked about your house, you were still panicked. What species was she? A Terran? You had never seen a Terran before, but she was close enough. Head, torso, two arms... more or less. Two legs. Was she blue from the cold? That was most likely it. You had no clue how to take care of her— or how to take care of guests in general.

”Please,” you urged her. “Come near the fire.” A flame had began jumping around in the hearth, and crackling sounds filled your home in no time.

Looking at the fire, the woman’s eyes widened. Compliant, she was immediately upon it, getting as close as she possibly could without burning her skin. Furiously rubbing her hands together, you could see her absorbing the heat gratefully.

You exhaled, relieved, and pulled a blanket from a chest of drawers. Approaching her carefully, you tapped her shoulder. Hardly looking away from the fire, the stranger eyed you.

You held out the blanket. “Wrap yourself in this. You’ll be in the clear when you stop shivering.”

She took the blanket from you and draped it around her shoulders, swathing herself in the fluffy cloth. Silence.

”...are you alright?” You asked carefully.

The stranger nestled deeper into the blanket. “Yes.”

”Thank goodness.” You sighed. “I couldn’t have someone die on my porch.”

No response.

Nope. The joke didn’t land. ”I had no idea,” you said, rushed. You sat down next to her. “That you weren’t one of my kind! Oh, god, you wouldn’t be able to survive ten minutes out there.”

The woman hummed offhandedly, still not paying attention to you.

”My home is... hours, at least, from the nearest civilization.” You made a confused face, and tried to make eye contact with this new stranger. “Where did you come from?”

“My ship.” She said, aptly. “It crashed.”

You gasped. “Oh, my! I’m so sorry.”

”It’s fine.”

She seemed to be getting warmer now, but her skin remained blue. You looked at her confusedly.

She noticed your staring, and shot you a glare. “What?”

”Your skin is still blue,” you stood up, going to get another blanket. “We you not warmed? I can get you—“

”This is my natural skin color.”

Embarrassed, you recoiled. “It is?”

If looks could kill, you’d be dead a hundred times over by now. “Yes.”

You sheepishly sat back down. “Sorry.”

”I’m a Luphomoid.”

”Luphomoid?”

”You’ve never heard of them?” She gave you a look that made you feel like the most idiotic creature in the galaxy.

”Well,” you cleared your throat. “I’ve barely been past the city, let alone... off-planet.” You looked up at her, and smiled. “It must be fun.”

”It’s...” she hesitated. “Fine.”

”Oh, but you must see so many beautiful things.” You continued, thinking about all the things you wished you could see. “Like stars.”

”Stars?” She lifted a brow.

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah. Stars. We can’t see them here. The clouds are too thick.”

”They’re just balls of flaming gas.” She muttered, taking a stick from near the hearth and poking at the fire in front of her with it. “Like this.”

Surprised, you looked up at her. “Really?”

”You’re not missing out.”

You tapped your chin. “What about suns?”

The stranger laughed, throaty and low. It made your heart jump, for some reason.

”They’re the same thing as stars.”

”Really?” You repeated, more surprised this time.

She nodded.

You looked back into the fire. “I’ll bet where you’re from is much better than here.”

No response. The stranger just exhaled, long, slow, and quiet.

”...I forgot to ask.” You said. “What’s your name?”

”...Nebula.” The no-longer-stranger said, pulling the blanket around herself tighter.

Looking at this woman, you felt something in your heart. It was odd, like a sense of wanting something more. A sense that you hadn’t felt the entirety of your life, being stuck on a snow planet with no one to talk to you. A feeling that had built up over the years, and now was coming into fruition.

You smiled at her.

”Well, Nebula.” You said. “Want to stay the night?”


	5. Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A canon divergence requested by the lovely gastropods! Thank you! Sorry it took so long.

She was quiet, resentful, constantly seething. A being made entirely out of hate, it seemed, Nebula never showed any positive emotions, as far as you knew. If you were not literally created to look after her, you may have gotten irritated.

The Sovereign were a kind and fair society, one that was filled with absolute purpose. One that was not to be trifled with. One that could rule the galaxy if they so desired— of course, you believed this because you were one of them. What kind of good denizen doesn’t believe in their own society? You were a beautiful creation, made in the visage of one of the most incredible creators. You were perfect, tailored specifically to your task, your purpose in life.

When you awoke for the first time, fully formed and functional, you were instructed on what to do— thought you didn’t feel like you needed to be. Instinct is what it was, a feeling in your chest, and memories implanted in your mind to know everything about the person you were created for.

Well, created for sounds like you were made to be her friend, or perhaps a lover. No. 

Your purpose was guarding this ungrateful prisoner— a thief and a murderer, one who you had a healthy amount of distain for. She had enough gumption to attempt to steal from your empire, but not the skill to escape. It almost made you laugh. She was impudent, refusing orders and then getting electrocuted when she did not obey. She became subservient enough to your commands, with only grumbles in protest.

There were three main rules. “Make sure she does not harm, or steal from anyone else. Make sure she does not get away. Make sure she does not get hurt.”

(Her bounty would be lowered drastically if she were missing an arm or a leg.)

It was a life you were created for, and, head held high, you were prepared to serve your purpose; no matter how wretched the life form was that you were supposed to guard. And now, you stood behind the throne of your leader, with these “Guardians of the Galaxy” in front.

Upon the signal from Ayesha, you lead the captive out by her chains, and yanked back her hood, revealing her bald head. Nebula’s face was on show, and apparently, the Guardians didn’t like what they saw. The green one only narrowed her eyes, and Nebula eyed her sister.

The human man, awkwardly attempting to break the tension, remarked that it was a family reunion.

“I understand,” Ayesha remarked, her golden eyes shifting to the green woman. “That she is your sister.”

”She is worth no more to me than the bounty for her on Xandar.” She replied.

”Our soldiers apprehended her trying to steal batteries.”

That was your cue. You tugged on her collar, pulling her up forcefully. She obliged, but not without a snarl. You kept your composure, staring straight forward.

“We have bred a fine Sovereign handler to make sure she does not act out of hand.” You. You held back a smile. “They will accompany you to Xandar.”

”A handler?” The human man asked, uncomfortably looking at you. “I don’t think we need one. I mean, thanks, but no thanks.”

You shot him a glare. How dare he defy you your purpose?

Ayesha, ever such a brilliant leader, seemed to have read your mind. “They were created specifically for this purpose.” She said, voice dark. “And it is hearsay to the highest degree to refuse their service.”

You stood a little taller.

The man bit his lip, looked at you in discomfort, then nodded. “Okay. Sorry, then. Thanks.”

Ayesha sat back down. “Do with her as you will.”

As the Guardians turned, you followed, leading Nebula by the scruff of the neck.

”You can’t hold me forever.” She hissed, hatefully.

Deftly, you looked over to the prisoner, not breaking your stride. She hated this the most. When people did not respond, apparently. You could see the fury growing on her face under your superior gaze, and you smirked as you turned back forward.

You could do this for centuries.

* * *

 You hardly lasted ten minutes.

As you boarded, you were immediately met with disgust. The ship was filthy, you could tell. Everything was dark and disgusting, and you would try your best to make the least amount of contact with all the surfaces.

”Holding bay’s back there.” The human man shed his coat with no amount of grace, and pointed a lazy finger in the direction.

You met him with an affirming smile, which you hoped looked more like a grimace, demonstrating the disgust you felt at this contrast to your old life.

As you dragged Nebula into the bay, you heard snippets of a conceited conversation in which the human man assumed that the High Preistess Ayesha was flirting with him. You had to hold back a scoff. Please.

Clicking the cuffs into a contraption in the holding bay, Nebula stared at her sister in anger. “I’m hungry.” She grunted. “Hand me some of the yaro root.”

Her sister, busying herself with something far more important than Nebula, replied “No. it’s not ripe.” She lifted only her eyes. “And I hate you.”

Gracefully, you removed your hands, and folded them in front of your body. Now, you only had to watch her, and make sure she doesn’t escape.

”You hate me?” Nebula jerked her body forward, unable to shake the restraints. “You left me there while you stole that stone for yourself. And yet here you stand.” She sneered. “A hero.”

You could have rolled your eyes. What self-subservient drivel was this?

”I will be free of these shackles.”

No, she wouldn’t.

”And I will kill you.”

Her sister now paid her full attention. “No.” She said, apt. “You will live out the rest of your days on Xandar, wishing you could.”

Nebula jerked her body forward again, attempting to make her flinch. She did not.

After looking at you, shifty, she left.

And then, an alarm started to blare.

The Guardians, you knew it. You knew they seemed suspicious from the start. The damn ruffians came onto your planet, lied, cheated, stole, and then we asked their way out of the atmosphere.

The rodent creature (who you assumed was a large, unshaven orloni) had swiped a handful of batteries, worth immesurable amounts in credits, and thought it could get away with it. It was only discovered was you were securing Nebula’s cuffs to the device in the holding bay when you heard the sound of Sovereign fleets approaching.

In your confusion, you whipped your head around and saw, out the window, the ships. Then you heard the exclamations and accusations of things stolen, and the excuses of them only being “borrowed”. You put the two together soon enough.

They thought they were safe. But the Sovereign found them.

But you were caught in the crossfire. Quite literally, in fact.

You were stuck on a ship full of felons, only one of which you were made to deal with. A ship full of felons that was docketing across space at Mach speeds, hurling you across the bay without a care.

When some of the Guardians ran into the holding bay to attempt to destroy the fleets— the absolute audacity of them!— they did not bother to apologize to you, nor even cast a glance at your confused, angry, and highly superior body that was being flung around the room like a rag doll.

Through the chaos, the back of the holding bay ruptured, leaving it completely open. Thankfully, you were on a planet with a breathable atmosphere. Not quite as thankfully, there were still whipping winds, grabbing at you, trying to pull you out and slam you onto the ground.

You screamed, and Nebula screamed too.

At one point, she came loose, no longer restrained. Instead of trying to get to safety, she reached for a yaro root that she had been attempting to steal and consume since she boarded the ship.

In your panic, all you could do is watch in confusion as she reached for the root instead of leave.

The ship crashed. Somehow, everyone survived.

Standing up from the wreckage, you held your head in pain. You had hit it on a piece of flying debris. You woke up from the shrieking of the green one.

”Look at this!” She screamed. “Where is the other half of our ship?!”

”My ship.” The man muttered.”

You groaned, holding your head. No one paid you any mind whatsoever. Even in your pain and dizziness, offense rose in your chest. Crinkling your brow, you saw the human man look you dead in the eye, then turn back to his conversation.

You almost swelled with anger, and the words “excuse me!” Tumbled out of you in a rage.

Your first words. You didn’t exactly have time to be excited about them, though.

The unshaved orloni gasped. “It can talk!”

”Of course it— aw, geez.” The human man muttered. “I forgot about you.”

Forgot? He forgot about a superior life form that so graciously bears the burden of fulfilling their purpose?

”How could you think,” you spat, storming over to the group. “That you could steal prizes Sovereign batteries and get away with it? What kind of cowardice—“

“Yadda yadda yadda.” The rodent let his jaw hang slack, disgusting maw open. “You know why I did it, Goldilocks? Because I wanted to!”

You recoiled, then your anger returned. “How dare you— I am here to hold a prisoner hostage. Not to be belittled by some— some—“

At a loss for words, you floundered. The human man piped up. “Trash panda?”

You didn’t know what that was, but it sounded appropriate. “That!” You pointed at him. “This is absolutely disgusting. I will not tolerate—“

Suddenly, a snicker, deep and breathy. It was Nebula, laughing at your misfortune.

Your golden face felt a rush of heat. Your leverage. It was all gone— you lost your cool, you gave her what she wanted. Biting your lip, you hissed curses in your head.

”Well, the ship’s totaled, Golden Girl over here is upset...” The man crossed his arms. “What now?”

* * *

 

After that sentence, a series of uninteresting and unimportant events happened. A large, egg shaped ship landed, took away three of the idiots, and—more importantly— left you along with the orloni, the tiny plant, and Nebula.

Through the dark of night, you could see her impudent face screwed up in anger.she was cuffed again. You attempted to keep a calm air about you, but it was too late. She had gotten under your skin.

”You can’t keep me here forever.”

No response.

”I’ll get out.”

Quiet again.

She sneered, leaning back, cuffs clanking on her metallic wrist. “You can drop the stupid act. I know why you really are— a brat.”

”I am not a brat!” Your voice cracked in a squeal, then you froze. Steeling your face, you turned straight ahead, quiet.

”Save yourself the trouble,” she said. “And let me go.”

”Why should I?”

Suddenly, a large explosion sounded in the distance. Your head whipped in the direction of the noise.

”Because of that.” She sneered.

You turned back to her, in a panic. Attempting to keep your cool, you asked “what do you have to do with that?”

”Idiot; those are Ravagers!” She cried. “They’ll rip us apart.”

”Then we leave.”

”In this ship!” Nebula exclaimed, almost laughing. “Out of the question.”

”I do not answer to you!”

Another explosion. You jumped this time.

”Listen to me.” Nebula’s voice was gravel. “You have to let me go. I’m the only chance you have to survive.”

You actually hesitated. Regaining your senses, you ignored her.

”They’ll kill us!” She leaned forward. “Both of us.”

Then you remembered a rule. Something you were programmed with. What you were made for. No harm shall come to Nebula, and if that were to happen... You would be disobeying your purpose. But you couldn’t release her.

In a mental struggle, you groaned, putting your head in your hands.

”Let me go.” She repeated.

Clenching your hands into fists, you groaned even louder, indignant. 

“I’m never forgiving myself.”

The shackles fell from her hands. She took off, running into the night. No thank you.

You fell backwards, landing on a seat behind you, and pinched the bridge of your nose. It had been a long, long day.


	6. Wisdom Teeth

“There’s—“ She slurs again, planting a full palm on her mouth, fingers clumsily splayed. She closers her eyes right as if thinking. “Y/N?”

”Hm?” You say from the driver’s seat. You’re just trying to focus on flying the ship right now, but Nebula is being incredibly distracting.

”Y/N?” She repeats.

”Yes, Nebula?”

”There’s— sheep in my head.” She mumbles, furrowing her brow.

Nebula has a little... mishap. She got a swift kick to the jaw from one of her most recent opponents and got a tooth knocked out. A quick run to the dentist allowed the tooth to be easily replaced (space dentistry was crazy) but it was also found that Nebula never got her wisdom teeth removed, and it was high time that it got done. Odd that Thanos never thought to do that when upgrading his daughter.

”No, Nebula.” You tried to keep your voice straight. “There are no sheep in your head. That’s the cotton from the operation.”

Needless to say, this was hilarious to you. She was still pretty high on anesthetics. They had to pump her with more than usual because of her many robotic components. Seeing the normally stoic and composed Nebula let loose and completely lose her inhibitions was great.

”Mm.” She closed her eyes tightly. “Don’t like it...”

”I can tell.”

”... y’re not flyin th’ ship right.”

You turned around in your seat. She wasn’t even looking at you or how you’ve were flying.

”I’m flying just fine, Nebula.

”Quill—“ she stopped, then ran her tongue across her teeth. Smacking her lips, she seemed to become completely distracted from what she was saying.

after a few moments of silence, you turned around. “What were you— hey!” You barked. “Don’t pick at the cotton!”

”I wan’na take it out!”

You sighed. “What were you going to say about Quill?”

”Quill c’n fly the ship better than you.”

”I’m sure he can. It’s his ship. But he’s sleeping right now, so I’m flying instead.”

”Why’s he sleep?”

”He’s sleep,” you chuckled. “Because he’s tired. I’m surprised you’re not asleep right now.”

”Mmm.” You could hear her poking around in her mouth again.

”Stop picking at it.”

You heard her metal arm detract away quickly.

It didn’t stay quiet for long. “Am I gonna stay like this?”

”Like what?”

”With— cotton. In me.”

you shook your head. “Nope. We’ll pull the cotton out eventually. You’ll be a little sore, but otherwise fine.”

Nebula sniffed. Then she sniffed again.

You turned around, and were shocked to finding her crying.

”I didn’t like that.” She shuddered. “I don’t like it.”

Immediately, you put the ship into autopilot and rushed to her seat. She was no longer carelessly slung across the  chair, but sitting straight forward. “Neb?” Your voice piqued. “Are you okay?”

”I don’t want more of me to be taken,” She hiccuped. “Not again.”

”Oh, no—“ you covered your mouth. “Nebula, this isn’t like that!”

”Thanos took away so much—“ she sniffed, her chin wrinkling. “Even my body. A—and now—“ she rubbed at her eyes. “More of me is being taken away. My head, my arm, my body, my br-brain; now my teeth—”

”Nebula—“

”What now?!” She suddenly yelled. “Will they be replaced? W-with new, better robot teeth?!” She openly sobbed now, putting her face in her hands.

This had never happened before. You didn’t know what to do, or what to say.

”My head hurts.” She whined, muffled by her hands. Her shoulders shook and bounced.

Gently, cautiously, you put a hand on her shoulder.

”Do you want some ice cream?”

She looked up, her metal hand wet with tears. She sniffed once more.

”Yes, please.”


End file.
